


In His Own World

by sagaluthien



Series: In his own world [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Autism, Gen, Weechesters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-18
Updated: 2013-12-18
Packaged: 2018-01-05 02:39:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1088617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sagaluthien/pseuds/sagaluthien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To remember what is right or is expected from you aren't always so easy, especially when things seem to go to fast.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In His Own World

**Author's Note:**

> This story popped up after that I saw the picture and yes, I have a weakness for writing stories where one or more characters has a disability, but it isn't to degrade anybody, as I am in that situation myself.
> 
> Also so you know is that Sam call Dean for Dee.

 

John wanted to hunt a lot more than he did, but having children made it more difficult. Maybe he would've managed to keep up hunting if both had been normal, but Sam was a long ways from being a normal kid. He'd noticed that everything wasn't right quite early. During Sam's second year he saw the difference between his boys. Sammy hadn't started to walk like Dean had and Sammy's speech seemed to be much delayed and limited to a few words. John had taken him to several doctors and gotten the same diagnose – Sam was autistic. Because of that, he'd had to stay at one place much longer than he liked.

Pastor Jim had fixed a house for them, where they had lived for a few years. It'd been good for Sammy and when Dean had started school, and made some friends. Jim also was good with Sam and he took care of the boys when John went away on hunts.

~*~*~

  
Sam loved the silence there in the church during the day, in particular when it wasn't filled with any people. He knew that occasionally people came, but he was fine as long they didn't talk or only whispered. Most seemed willing to leave him be.

He loved to sit in the middle where the light reached him through the colourful windows. He loved how the colours hit him when the sun was shining outside. He could sit there for hours, bathing in the sunbeams. He liked it best when there where silence, because then he felt like he was able to catch things in his time.

Sammy had learned that he wasn't disturbed by John, Jim or Dee in the church, so he went there more often. He felt so confused when there were many people. It was even worse when they talked with him. All too often the things came so fast that he had no time to understand what they asked of him. If they expected him to do things or answer to what they said, they often continued to talk before he was ready to say anything. Mostly they sounded mad at him and he knew they were frustrated at him. He hated to be the cause of it, but they never waited for him. When he had finally figured out what to say or what they wanted, it had been so long, that it often became the wrong moment.

At times he'd tried to get them to wait, or listen, but it always seemed to turn out they saw him to misbehave, so through the years he become to not try to say or do anything. He had to come to like Jim; he had more patience than anyone, even over Dee. Jim also let him look through the books. He liked the ones with pictures best.

When Dee began to be away some time every day and then came home with books Sammy sat close to him when he worked. Dee had talked to him and explained what was on the pages. Dee had not expected Sam to say anything and probably not even to remember what become a habit of reading things out loud. After awhile though, Sammy had learned to recognise the letters and even if he didn't talk much, he was able to read what was written.

A lot of the books Jim had were ones with many pages of texts and they often had many words he still not understood, but Sam wanted to believe he would get there soon.

When he was there in the big house with benches and colourful glass, Sam had often heard Jim speaking, when the pastor thought he was alone. Sam had several times gone closer and listened to him. At first Sam had not understood a word what was said, and Jim seemed to repeat the things like he was trying to learn. Sam liked the new way the words sounded, so he'd started to repeat them too. A long time later he would learn that the words were of a language called Latin.

There where times when he went outside. Mostly when there was too many people or when it was a warm day. A lot of times when he did it was because the people he saw as closest to him had been awfully angry and he'd been angry back. He hated when they raised their voices and when they didn't listen to him, he had to scream to get them to stop. Sam had learned that if he stayed close, preferable so they could see him, they wouldn't raise their voices, touch him, and suffocating him with hugs.

Today, it was a good day with sunshine, and he missed Dee and John he had decided he didn't want to be inside so he had wandered to his favourite place in the garden. It was secluded, but he also knew Jim would not worry if he was there because the pastor had showed him the place. He could sit there in the sun, watch the insects wake to life, and also he could push his hands into the earth. Sam liked to feel the difference in the layers, how the top layer had been warmed by the sun. How the next was chillier and deeper down, the next could be wet – or so cold it still might be frozen. He could sit and let the soil run between his fingers.

The time went by, which he didn't care or felt he needed to think about. For as long as the sun shone he was satisfied and he didn't feel weather it became cold or not. Finally, when the shadows had moved and he noticed that his teeth were clattering, Sam considered he might need to go inside. It just was that he didn't like to be there. There was a smell that he didn't care for, but could not figure out why. He lay down on the ground, listening to the sounds in the air and ground.

 

~*~*~

  
John was back from a hunt. It'd gone well and he also thought he was one step closer to what might have killed Mary. He hid his weapons and then took a long shower before he went to some grocery shopping and pick up his boys from Jim.

He drove up to Jim's house, and knocked on his door. It was Dean that opened. He hugged him and made sure he was good. John asked for Jim and learned his friend was in the church.

"Is your brother in the living room?" John asked next.

"No, I haven't seen him. When I came home from school I looked around and didn't find him, so I figured he is with Jim."

"Okay. Dean go and collect your things, meet me at the car while I go over there."

Dean nodded and walked towards the living room. John went out and walked over to the church. Opening the big door, he was met by Pastor Jim.

"Hi John, are you already back?"

"Hi Jim. Yes, I managed to get the ghost faster than I thought. Have you seen Sammy?"

Jim looked around, "Not since lunch, isn't he inside with Dean?"

"No, Dean thought he was with you."

Both men became slightly worried. Jim said he would do an extra check in the church and John said he would look outside. Around the church he didn't see the little guy, so John continued to the garden and the arbour. There he found Sam lying on the ground. He ran the last steps and bent down. His little boy was cold. John quickly put his leather jacket around him and walked towards the front door.

"Dean!"

Dean ran up to them.

"Can you get the groceries that are in the car? We need to stay here for a few hours, until we get Sam warmer."

Dean nodded and was on the way back to the Impala. John went inside and close there after they were joined by Jim and Dean. Together they undressed and bathed Sam and then put him in bed with a heating pad and several quilts.

"Dean you stay here, you can lay down too and we will come back with dinner when it's ready." John instructed his oldest.

Down in the kitchen both men started the dinner. Jim waited to talk until John calmed down some. Sadly this wasn't the first time they found Sam in a similar situation and John could not stay angry on Jim for it had happened again. By now, they knew it was something that could happen once more. All John could do or hope for was that Sam at one point would learn to tell people where he went and would go back inside before he got too chilled. When John showed his anger towards Sam, his boy would most likely start to scream and kick. That had happened before, so John had learned he could not do that.

 

~*~*~

  
Something was different. That Sam was absolutely sure about. The smell was no longer a fresh earthy one. What he felt was dry clothing and a hint of what was detergent. He knew someone must have found him and brought him inside, as the detergent was what Jim used, not what John washed their clothes with.

Sam also felt the heat that came from the heating pad and the layers of quilts. He liked the cocoon it made, so he decided to not make a noise and reveal he'd woken up. He wanted to postpone the inevitable quarrelling he surely would get for not going inside in time.

He sang silently, and soon fell asleep again.

  
~*~*~

  
A few hours later, after they eaten dinner and Dean had done his homework John decided it was time to wake Sam. He sent Dean up, knowing Sam would take that better.

"Sammy." Dean kept his voice low, and waited before he repeated his brother's name. He wanted to avoid touching him, but would if Sam did not show any movement.

"Sammy, you need to wake up. Dinner has been finished for ages."

Dean walked closer to the mountain of quilts they put on Sam. It not only helped to warm him up, it also made a good weight to keep him calm. Dean didn't take it off, only lifting the top quilts so he could see Sam better.

"Sammy, sammy-sammy."

The dark longish hair moved and a pair of green eyes met Dean's.

"There you are, little brother. Daddy is here and misses his little guy. Do you want to come and say hi?"

The mop of hair shook, and Sam tried to crawl deeper under the quilts.

"Oh no, don't hide. I guess you're really hungry, so do you want to go down and eat or should I bring something to you?"

 It was quiet for several minutes before Sam looked up and spoke for the first time that evening. "Eat here. Bees Knees."

"How could I forget Bee's Knees, you eat that with everything." Dean teased Sam, but he wasn't sure it registered as Sam didn't smile.

Sam pulled the closest quilt from Dean's hand. Dean let the other quilts fall and went downstairs to make a plate for his little brother.

"Did you get him up?" John asked as soon as Dean passed the living room. "How's he doing?"

"Yeah, dad, he woke up. I'm not sure, he wanted his dinner upstairs. I guess he wants some more time before he comes down." Dean answered.

John rose and joined Dean in the kitchen. Together they fixed a tray for Sam. Dean put a large amount of the peanut butter mix, Bee's Knees on the plate. Not that he thought that peanut/honey butter mix would work with fish, but he knew Sammy. Sammy would probably eat as he usually did, picking at everything, eating each food separately.

  
~*~*~

  
Now that Dee had come and woke him, Sam could not fall asleep again. He stayed in his cocoon as he liked the warmth. After a moment he heard more than one pair of steps coming up from the stairs. He guessed that John was coming too. He tried to make himself smaller in the bed.

Sam loved his father, but today was not his best day and he really didn't feel ready to meet him. He had the feeling he might've missed doing the things that he was supposed to do, and then he didn't knew how to tell him about the smell. He still hadn't figured out what it was and why he didn't like it. He did know it was not coming from the bed, and it was very faint in the room.

Now he could smell other smells and it had to be from the dinner they brought him. His stomach made noises, so he probably was hungry. Usually, he didn't think about eating, but did it when they told him, or else he could just spend sitting all day sucking on a spoon with Bee's Knees.

He sat up, as he suspected if he didn't John would raise his voice more and he thought his dad's voice was loud enough. He hated those times when it felt like he was getting a headache and everything was harder to understand. When he then tried to sort out things he often had to wait even longer to speak, which lead to the people lose patience with him. Most times Sam found it was just easier to not say anything.

Sure enough, when the door opened he could see both Dee and John, and his father was carrying a tray. He hoped that meant things would not be so heated. Dean started to take the quilts from the bed, and fold them up, while John put the tray down on the bed table. Sam looked it over, making sure there was some of his favourite foods. He saw the Bee's Knees peanut butter, and there was fish, potatoes and peas. At least the food weren't touching each other, but fish wasn't his favourite. Looking over the plate, he tried to remember what probably was expected of him.

"Hey, Sammy. I hope you feel better now." John began.

 _He felt good, so why would he feel better_? Sam wondered. He was warm, not tired and they seemed to be making sure he would eat. Then he tried to decide if that was a question and he needed to give his dad an answer.

"When we didn't know where you were, we got worried and it didn't help when I found you laying on the ground in the arbour." John continued in as normal voice he could.

Sam knew he been outside earlier, in the sun and felt the earth. It'd been nice and he'd been away from that smell he would wanted to tell them about. So in general he was feeling good. So if there were a question he should say yes, or was it just a statement. He was so uncertain.

"Don't you remember that we've told you again and again that you have to tell any of us if you go somewhere? It is important that you do that so we don't need to worry and search for you."

His father was still talking, but Sam now felt lost as there was more to discern of what Dad was saying. And he wanted the peanut/honey. Since he was lost as to what to say, Sam went for the latter and moved towards the bed table.

He was hindered by a hand. He didn't like it, so he tried to get away only to feel it harden around his arm. Sam looked at the imposing hand. He really wanted the Bee's Knees, and now. He tried to snatch his arm away, and it didn't work. Sam also knew if he started to shout it would only take longer for him to get the treat, so he had to say something.

"I…," he started, "I'm good."

His father loosened the grip, but didn't completely let go. Sam must have missed something important.

"Dad I think you should let Sammy go." Dean said turned to John and next to Sam, "You're hungry, aren't you?"

"Yes."

Finally he was free and things somehow seemed to have gone OK. Sam looked closer on his plate. He should eat the best food last, because if he didn't eat the rest John probably would have a fit. So best to go for the least tasty, the fish. Looking closer he at least saw it was the one fish he liked the best – salmon.

He went into the tastes. Best was of course the Bee's Knees. Eating that then everything was perfect.

 

*~* The End *~*

**Author's Note:**

> I'll definitely write more in this verse, but can't promise when. I do know there is a finished third story, still need it betad though.


End file.
